Dire Wants

by Stephanie Tyler

  She’d seen it happening over the past week, but she’d been so buried in her own wolf things that she didn’t stop to think it had to do with their mating. “This will pass?”

  “Eventually.” Rifter yanked her closer. “Stop questioning me.”

  The alpha authority in his tone infuriated her, but it excited her more. “And if I don’t?”

  “You will, little wolf.”

  Any guise of polite behavior was gone, vanished as if Rifter let the facade go completely. He pinned her to the ground and she knew she’d pushed too hard one time too many.

  She would pay now. But the funny thing was, she didn’t think she’d mind it, especially not when his thigh pressed her sex, holding her open. He ripped her top open with his canines and she felt the pleasure surge through her.

  “I’m going to take you, right here and now.”

  “Do I have a say?”

  “You have the next two seconds to say no. Otherwise, I’ll keep your mouth occupied.”

  She yielded to him, pulse racing.

  If he’d ever been civilized, any trace of it was completely gone, replaced by his raw physicality that threatened to consume her.

  She would let it.

  Rifter grabbed her, stripped her pants down with efficiency and tore his own as well. He entered her before she could draw another breath, holding her to him with one arm as he stood with her and propped her ass against the nearest table. And then he took her with a force that overwhelmed her. It was nothing like mating sex, which had been a wild thing on its own. No, this time Rifter had complete control and there was no pain for him involved, only pleasure, an intent on proving himself alpha to her.

  And he did. Every time he rocked into her, her womb contracted and the orgasms were fast and furious. She couldn’t recover in between as Rifter showed his dominance and she accepted it gratefully, crying out her king’s name in the process of complete surrender.

  *

  Afterward, Gwen and Rifter remained splayed on the floor of the living room, covered by a blanket Rifter pulled from the couch.

  Gwen blushed as she realized how loud she’d been—and how exposed.

  “You’re never going to stop blushing, are you?” Rifter asked, and he didn’t look unhappy about it in the least.

  “We’re just so out in the open.”

  “Everyone stayed away, Gwen. They know better.”

  Every wolf except Jinx knew better. And she couldn’t let it go, despite Rifter’s warning. She only hoped the sex had mellowed the newly mated alpha male syndrome he had going on.

  “Maybe Kate’s splitting you up on purpose,” Gwen pointed out. “What if she’s smarter than we think about all of this? She’s been working with Shimmin for years.”

  “Shimmin sent a Were to attack her—to control her,” Rifter countered. “When that didn’t work, he got her a job to keep an eye on her and her powers. They didn’t think they’d need her. They just didn’t want us to have her.”

  “I don’t like my family being separated.” Rifter might be alpha, but Gwen’s mother alpha instincts were shining through, along with the human desire for family.

  “I’m not taking them away, Gwen. It’s—”

  “Pack law.” She pushed away from him. He studied the Sister Wolf glyph on her back, almost as beautiful as her wolf form.

  He knew what she was really worried about. What if Jinx really was evil? If the weretrappers found a way to turn the Dires … would the Elders help?

  Would they care? From what she’d seen of the hierarchy who ruled both the Dires and the Weres, she didn’t think so.

  “We need him here,” Gwen said.

  “Not now,” Rifter told her.

  “Because of Kate, or because he defied you?” she asked.

  “The latter.”

  The wolf part of her understood that immediately. The human side that hated to see these wolves separated for any reason, didn’t. “He belongs here.”

  “I can’t expect you to understand.”

  “We have limited time. Seb is gearing up the army again for the blue moon and you’re kicking him out when we need to work together—now more than ever.”

  Rifter’s fists unclenched. “As much as I needed him to go, Jinx wanted to go more.”

  “Why?”

  “I guess we’ll find out. But I think it’s best he’s working from the outside, and the key is that he’s still working for us. That much I know. Eye on the prize.” Rifter paced, but his stance, his voice, were strong.

  He was right. Gwen mentally calculated the number of wolves on their side. Liam, in particular, was amassing a great deal of respect with both the Manhattan packs and the others across the country as well. That put their numbers up substantially, but going up against the ghost army … well, all of it was risky.

  And you’re powerless.

  She stared at her hands. Or maybe not.

  Chapter 30

  Jinx flew down the road on his Harley, headed to the bank of buildings the Dires owned on the other end of town. It was the best place for him to stay, and the Were who acted as the building manager assured him that there was an empty apartment under the penthouse.

  No one wanted it and Jinx knew why—it was under the damned vampire, and Weres never trusted vamps. Jinx wasn’t about to be the exception to the rule.

  He parked in a hidden space in the underground garage, went through the double-reinforced door with his code.

  Brother Wolf would buck if Jinx attempted to use the elevator. The wolf trusted his own legs and jumping ability rather than a machine, and Jinx conceded, took the stairs.

  He’d been inside the apartments before. Cain and Cyd kept one in the building next door, just in case there was a night they couldn’t get to the safety of the Dire house. The apartments been reconfigured and upgraded to make the rooms larger—and reinforced to handle wolves, although not Dires. Jinx, at six foot six, had needed to duck to enter some of the rooms in the twins’ place, and Brother Wolf wasn’t looking forward to the confines of the apartment at all.

  Finally he reached number nine, the penthouse that had exclusive use of the rooftop.

  It was time for the vamp to go. Right now, Jinx had no love for any kind of supernatural creature except his own. Well, some of his own kind.

  It was time to start eviction proceedings.

  In seconds, he was pounding on the vamp’s door. Jez answered, looking like his typically bored British tight-assed self. “Go away, wolf. I don’t need company.”

  “I’m moving in.”

  “I don’t bloody well remember advertising on Craigslist for a roomie.”

  “You’re out.”

  “I don’t think so, wolf. I have a lease.”

  “And I have ownership papers.”

  “Papers? I figured house training wolves would be a bitch, but after several centuries, I would hope you’d get it down pat.” Jez smirked. “There’s only one top dog here, and it’s me.”

  “I’m not a dog and you’re going to have to move one floor down.”

  “Make me.”

  The fight that had been building inside of Jinx burst forth until he couldn’t hold back any longer. He needed this and it didn’t matter who was on the other end of his fury.

  It only mattered that someone was.

  Jinx dove for Jez, knocking the vamp to the floor and feeling the solid muscle he’d connected with. It might possibly be the fairest fight he’d ever had with another species of supernatural—and the most complicated.

  He was already banged up from going head-to-head with Rifter—and still, his body was chock-full of enough adrenaline to choke a vampire. Which he did on multiple occasions, only to find himself slammed across the room.

  He bounced right back, though, and even succeeded in putting the vamp’s head through the bathroom door at one point. He’d laughed at that, although his success was short-lived when he found his head shoved into the fridge and the door closed on his neck.


  It could go on for fucking ever, and hours later, Jinx wasn’t sure it hadn’t. Wolf and vamp lay next to each other on their backs, panting.

  The penthouse was a wreck, though not as bad as it would be if not built for this kind of abuse. Doors were pulled half off hinges, the fridge was dented with an imprint of Jinx’s body—a neat vamp trick—and Jez in turn was slowly healing a broken leg.

  “Round eighteen?” Jez asked, and Jinx rolled his eyes.

  “What—for another draw? I think it’s time to put our dicks away.” Jinx pushed up onto his shoulders.

  “I never knew wolves could be as strong as you,” Jez told him.

  “Ditto. Fucking deadhead,” he muttered and Jez threw something at him—a lamp, he was pretty sure, as it whizzed by his head. Jinx ducked and something shattered against the wall. “Neither of us can stay here now.”

  “I’ll stay with you downstairs until this gets cleaned.”

  “First of all, this is my place, not the— Ah, fuck it. How’s that going to happen? You’ve got a vampire cleaning fairy?”

  “Something of the sort,” Jez said. “I’m starving.”

  “My blood’s staying in my body, thanks.”

  Jez snorted. “I don’t like wolf. I’d prefer a good fried rice and wonton soup.”

  “I know the best place,” Jinx said, hearing the exhaustion in his own voice. He looked over at Jez, who was already sleeping. “Ha. I fucking win, deadhead.”

  “I heard that,” Jez muttered. “Why are you even here in the first place?”

  “I’m going fucking crazy.”

  “Can you do it quietly? I’ve got to get some rest.”

  Instead of flipping the vamp off, Jinx and Brother Wolf agreed that rest was a really good idea and won out over food. Too tired to strip and shift, he slept instead.

  When he woke, ten hours had passed and he still lay on the floor of the penthouse, Jez next to him. Both were covered by blankets, and Jinx sat up on his elbows as Jez stretched.

  “Aren’t we cozy?”

  “Don’t get any ideas, wolf,” Jez told him. “Are you ready to discuss purgatory?”

  Jinx sat up like a shot. “You see it too?”

  “Help with the going crazy thing?”

  “A little.” Jinx lay back and stared at the ceiling. “Since when?”

  “Since you opened it.”

  *

  Angus watched Cain get out of the police cruiser’s backseat, handcuffed and escorted into the station house.

  Shimmin hadn’t called him about this, which made Angus suspicious about the officer’s real motives. Nothing in this town was as it seemed, and he wasn’t sure if that meant things weren’t on the up-and-up, but something about Cain turned him protective.

  Like the wolf really needs your help.

  Still, he shoved his hands in his pockets and waited anyway. Ruminated on the fact that Shimmin had given him very little information in the few days since he’d agreed to work for the trappers.

  Sure, the cop had outlined more about Were culture and the like, the way Cain had started to. Angus had also met a group of trappers who taught him the best way to take a Were down.

  In their eyes, a Were should be killed no matter what. You spot one, you kill it, even if it’s doing no harm—that’s the only way we can be sure it will never do any harm, one of Shimmin’s men told him.

  Instead of comforting Angus, it chilled him. And when he’d tried to question them about their motives for joining the trappers—and what the trappers stood for in general, they’d gone quiet.

  “Sorry. The questioning thing is ingrained in me—it’s part of my job,” he’d lied.

  “This isn’t your job, Angus,” Leo had chided him later, after the group had reported every damned thing Angus had said. “It’s our purpose—your purpose now. You’ll have to trust me.”

  Angus didn’t trust him worth a damn, and for good reason. When Cain hadn’t stalked him that evening, he’d actually gone out looking. And then he heard on the scanner that a young man had been taken into custody for questioning.

  What were the chances? And yet Leo mentioned that they brought Weres in for questioning as often as they could. Especially the young ones.

  Angus could hear Leo’s lies now. “Fed, we didn’t arrest the kid—just needed to talk to him on another matter.” Because Leo had promised to keep Angus in the loop on anything and everything concerning the murders, which included Cain.

  And Cain looked arrested to him.

  He waited half an hour, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, and then got out of the car to go inside. It was only then he spotted Cain walking through the back lot toward the woods, weaving slightly. Last time Angus checked, there weren’t kegs inside the station house and he was relatively sure Cain wasn’t a drug user.

  He got back into his car and drove it around so it was closer to the woods. Got out, made sure no one saw him, followed Cain and called his name quietly when he got close. Cain went to swing, but when he saw Angus he stopped.

  “What the fuck?” Cain asked.

  “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

  “Get me away from them,” Cain slurred, jerked his head toward the building. From their hidden position, Angus could see some of Shimmin’s men looking out the back door, then exiting the buildings holding shotguns at their sides.

  “Did you escape?” Angus demanded.

  “They let me go,” Cain insisted.

  And now they were hunting him. Literally.

  Cain didn’t protest at all when Angus slid an arm around him to hold him up. His breathing was fast, his face flushed. There wouldn’t be time to walk him out. If he didn’t move now, they’d be spotted.

  He slung Cain over his shoulder—damn, the kid was heavy—and he got him to the car before the officers turned in their direction. Shoved Cain in the back and put a blanket over him, because the wolf was completely passed out.

  He dug into Cain’s pocket first to look for an address beyond the invisible house and recalled it immediately, the one listed on his arrest report. Not safe. Angus had kept his motel room—the one Shimmin knew about—and rented another one under a different name.

  He’d take Cain there.

  After making sure no one was following him, he managed to get the young wolf safely stored in the room, curled up on the bed. His color was good, but he was definitely drugged. Angus paced, wondered if he should call someone about this and decided it was ultimately better to let Cain make that decision when he woke.

  Whenever that would be.

  Which ended up being two hours later, with Angus passed out on the bed next to him. He’d started out propped against the headboard but ended up closer to Cain. He knew he was taking a chance being this close to the wolf, but chance had served him well until this point.

  *

  Cain had to get up and moving. Out of here. Away from humans of any kind. But when he tried to stand, he and his wolf felt the room spinning.

  He thought about shifting, but then he’d be totally out of control. And a drugged, totally out-of-control, once-moon-crazed Were didn’t mix well with humans of any sort.

  And he really shouldn’t give a shit.

  “Cain, come on. Down, boy.”

  “That supposed to be funny? Because I’m not a damned dog.” He moved to hit Angus, but the fed moved out of the way easily. “I’m … fine.” Damn. Finding the words wasn’t easy. Especially when Angus’s big hand clasped with an unexpected gentleness on the back of his neck.

  “Not even close. Lie down.”

  “Can’t stay here.”

  “And you can’t leave in this condition. I can’t take you to an apartment Shimmin knows about or a home that technically doesn’t exist.”

  “Point taken.”

  “We’re in a motel room rented under an alias. Shimmin doesn’t know about it.”

  “You sure, Fed? He’s good.”

  “I’m better.”

  Cain could b
elieve that. “Cyd must be frantic.”

  “You should call. Keep it short, though, in case they’re watching the number.”

  Smart man. Cain dialed the number, not bothering to mention the secure line, and Cyd answered on the first ring with “I’ll rip his head off if he hurt you.”

  Not an empty threat. “I’ve been drugged by Shimmin, but Angus is keeping me safe.”

  “Have you taken a blow to the head?”

  “I’m fine. Gotta sleep this shit off.” There. He’d finally relented. Angus obviously approved, because the massage on the back of his neck started again, and he nearly howled at how good it felt.

  “Where are you? Because if you’re not back in the morning—”

  Cain closed his eyes and thought about the address. The spooky twin thing wasn’t always reliable, but it typically worked in these situations.

  “Got it. Be safe, brah,” Cyd told him.

  Cain hung up the phone and handed it to Angus, who was staring at him oddly.

  “What?”

  “You’re … glowing a little.”

  Cain nodded. Strange that the fed could see it. “I’m omega.”

  “Omega,” Angus repeated. “Isn’t that usually the lowest rung on the wolf ladder?”

  “Not for my kind,” he murmured. “Special.”

  Angus gave him a grim look. “Don’t tell me any more, Cain. Shimmin gave you truth serum.”

  “No shit.” Cain closed his eyes and then opened them again. Pulled Angus in for a kiss. At first the fed froze, and Cain realized he couldn’t fight the truth with or without the serum.

  His wolf instincts were never wrong about this shit, but what was wrong was wanting a human male. And a fucking fine specimen he was.

  He waited, his lips against Angus’s until he heard, “Cain.”

  It was a whisper. A plea. And it was spoken half captured by Cain’s mouth covering his. But Angus responded after he froze for a second, gave as good as he got, pulled Cain closer.

  Yeah, Cain hadn’t been wrong about this. He kissed the fed fiercely, and Angus’s hands fisted in Cain’s hair gently as Cain struggled to stay the fuck awake.

  Wasn’t going to happen for much longer. When he woke, there might be regrets on both ends, but for now the truth overtook him.